


Try A Little Tenderness

by forgetmenotjimmy



Series: Doing House [4]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Boys In Love, Emotionally Repressed, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, M/M, Sweet, odd couple, serious relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 17:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19795459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: Sometimes he just wanted something nice in his life.





	Try A Little Tenderness

Ever since his divorce, his fantasies including House had become increasingly domestic. This grew even more after his year-long sabbatical; after he’d returned to House’s team the master/slave stuff gave way to more boyfriend/boyfriend scenarios. In fact, some of his most revisited dirty fantasies about House in the early days now turned him off. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything, but so much had happened since the beginning, since House had been this distant, mysterious genius and slave-driver. Chase had seen too much of him and House had seen and recognized parts of Chase that almost no one else had. Their relationship was too changed for the old abuse of power dynamics stuff to be appealing to Chase. This worried him a little, what did this say about him? Did he want a relationship with House? It wasn’t like he’d actually wanted House to demand blowjobs from him when he’d been a meek ass-kisser, but the current fantasies were a whole lot more realistic.

One of his favorite recent fantasies was the lazy Sunday morning. He wakes in stages, the light making him grimace and bury his head deeper under the covers until his need to pee forces him to sit up. House is still sleeping: mouth soft and face relaxed, looking at peace. Chase watches him sleep in between his own eyes drooping with grogginess. He doesn’t want to get up but a full bladder and rumbling stomach eventually persuade him. By the time breakfast is almost ready he considers going in and waking his lover, but then he hears sounds of movement from the bedroom. Sometimes House has impeccable timing, often when a hot meal is involved. They greet each other warmly; House makes a quip about Chase being a good housewife which makes Chase laugh and stick his tongue out. They spend a pleasant morning watching daytime TV and reading the paper, occasionally reading out parts to each other or commenting on the shows but mostly just enjoying each other’s company.

When House begins rubbing his leg and grimacing, Chase offers to massage it. House waves him off and Chase accepts the refusal easily, though he keeps an eye on the man. A little later, Chase runs out to do some errands, not bothering to ask if his boyfriend would like to accompany him.

He likes the area around House’s apartment, it’s the right mixture of city and suburbia. On good days House comes with him and insults the shop owners Chase has charmed, leaving half of them to feel sorry for him and the other half to praise him for putting up with the crotchety old man. Chase knows that they made an odd couple and most people who knew them didn’t think it would last, but he doesn’t care. House pretends not to care, but Chase can read him accurately 90% of the time, so he’s aware that it bothers him at least a little.

The time he saves from being able to walk at his normal pace is countered slightly by the longer conversations he has with people he knew, but he still isn’t too long. He returns and puts the things away, ears trained to hear any calls from his boyfriend. It isn’t until he plops down on the couch and catches a half-suppressed grimace that he tries again.

“Seriously, if it’s really bothering you...”

“I don’t want anything but some peace and quiet.” Unsurprised by this reply, Chase changes tack.

“Well, maybe we can take your mind off it.” Scoffing, House retorts.

“I am not trying that meditation crap again!”

“What about the healing bowl?” Chase jokes, well aware what House thought of the time he’d brought back the bowl from Bali and proceeded to chime it around House as he was struggling through a particularly bad cramping in his leg. Personally, Chase thought it had calmed him substantially but once he’d recovered enough to snark, House had ripped into his superstitious bimbo boyfriend. Usually House didn’t insult his intelligence unless he was genuinely irritated so Chase had dropped it.

Now, House just glares at him. Lowering his voice and leaning forward to fiddle with the buttons of House’s shirt, Chase tries again. “I meant a fun distraction.”

“It says a lot about you that _that_ is where your mind goes.” Ignoring the deflection, Chase works a finger through the gap in House’s shirt and begins to draw idle patterns on his skin. House’s breath hitches.

“So…is that a ‘no’?” Chase askes innocently. House clears his throat and manages in a slightly hoarse voice.

“I suppose I’ll just have to suffer through your horniness.” Chase holds back a laugh as he undoes House’s shirt properly and bends to worry the skin there with his tongue and lips. House digs a hand into his hair, which has just been cut but is still long enough to grab onto. After Chase begins sucking on his nipples, House pulls him up and into a hard and yet leisurely kiss. They’re not in any hurry, kissing and caressing each other over bare skin and still clothed limbs. In deference to House’s pain, Chase leans over him, bracing himself with one hand, the other fumbling with House’s pants. This is not made easier with House still kissing the life out of him, both large hands cupping his face to keep him where House wants him. Finally, House’s cock springs free and Chase pulls away slightly, panting into House’s mouth.

“You want a sock or are you gonna keep it down so Mrs. Orlinsky doesn't have a heart attack?”

“First: thank you for bringing up our elderly neighbor at this precise moment and second: let me remind you that _you’re_ the screamuuuuhhhh.” As he’d been snarking, Chase had been sinking down onto his knees, careful not to jostle House’s bad leg which was still propped up on the coffee table. He’d grown impatient and had swallowed down House’s cock before he’d finished his faux-indignant tirade. Wicked blue eyes flick up to the slightly incoherent mess on the couch, before he concentrates again. Alternating between grabbing Chase’s hair and parts of the couch, House groans and curses under his breath. They’ve done this enough that Chase knows exactly how to get his man off, what he can do to make it quick and fast or slow and torturous. Right now though, he’s going for easy and languid, stretching out the pleasure without morphing it into desperation.

House always has his own plans though. After a while, he tugs insistently on some strands of blond hair, groaning as Chase drags swollen lips off his cock, spit and precum clinging to his mouth and chin. Chase looks questioningly at him, concern bubbling up as House doesn’t say anything, just stares at his debauched face for a long moment. Before Chase can clear his throat and come up with something to say, House’s hands shift to the back of his head and neck, pulling him up and on top of him. Vaguely protesting putting his weight on House and risk agitating his leg, Chase manages to put a hand out to hold up some of his weight. His strength and self-control are immediately tested as House laps at his face, tongue firm and insistent and oh God!

“You’re overdressed.” House growls, the tone sending shivers down Chase’s spine, and undoes the zipper which had been pressing painfully against the young man’s hard on. Absurdly, what comes out of Chase’s mouth as House takes them both in hand is:

“You’re cleaning the couch after.”

“Yes, dear.” House quips, using a fist in Chase’s shirt to push him down into the couch, following after him with a wolfish grin. Feeling the delicious weight of House on top of him, Chase forgets about everything but House’s hands and lips and... As he comes, he shoves his face into House’s shoulder to muffle his cry – House was right: he _is_ a screamer. House follows soon after, collapsing down fully, resting his head on Chase’s still heaving chest. They stay like that for a while; Chase closes his eyes to cherish the moment, committing the feeling to memory. It’s a habit he’d developed from the early days of their relationship, when he’d been convinced that House would turn around suddenly and realize how ridiculous they were and do something to drive Chase away.

Eventually, the cum between them begins to dry and crust and they rip apart from each other. House winces and Chase forces himself not to show that he noticed. Instead he gets a damp wash cloth, cleaning spray and sweatpants for them to change into, House relocating to the piano as Chase wipes down the couch.

“Thought you wanted me to do that.” He said, a question in his voice. Every so often he’d say something and Chase could – after years of experience – almost hear the cogs turning in House’s head. This time Chase is the puzzle. Chase replies lightly, trying hide the truth behind humor.

“I’m the wife, remember? You bring home the bacon and I keep the place in order.” He spares a glance behind him. “I did see this place before I moved in, remember?” After a short pause, House replies quietly with a gentle sarcastic bite to his voice.

“Not quite the Mrs. House my mother imagined.” Chase snorts, standing back to assess whether he needed to get something to dry the damp spot or just let it air dry. “She does want to meet you though.” Chase freezes.

Family is a touchy subject for both of them. It doesn’t come up a lot because Chase’s only surviving family members are people half a world away that he skypes every so often but isn’t massively emotionally invested in and House… well, ever since his father’s death he’s seen a little more of his mother than before but their relationship still isn’t as warm and fuzzy as seemingly everybody else’s.

Chase had mentioned to his sister that he was seeing someone, a guy, the last time they’d talked and she’d been happy for him in that muted way they seemed to relate to each other as adults. The bombsite of their childhood still radiating emotions too ugly for them to dare allowing themselves to feel too strongly now. He hadn’t even considered that House had told his mother about him, they’d never directly referenced each other’s lives outside of each other. Until now.

He swallows and manages.

“Oh?” He forces himself to turn around and look at House, taking in the awkward slump, hands resting lightly on the keys and eyes staring down at them. Chase would not put it past the man to start playing something silly or jazzy or just anything to gloss over what he’d just revealed.

“Yeah. She’s coming into town next week.” House looks up at him and, feeling too far away, Chase pads over and sits next to him on the bench. After a quick glance at House’s face, Chase lets his eyes fall to House’s hands.

“I’d like to meet her too.” Then he preempts House’s instinct for inducing conflict and friction by saying. “Properly.” He catches House’s eyes. “Dressed nicely and behaving.” He can see it now: a slightly awkward dinner in a nice restaurant; making small talk, ignoring the fact that they’re unlikely to provide House’s mother with grandchildren; House attempting to dodge discussions of childhood memories and feelings and Chase trying to help him do that because as curious as he is about House as a boy, he knows, intimately, how frustrating and depressing it can be to have to pretend your past isn’t a festering wound to normal, everyday people at dinners and parties and in general.

House grunts and half-nods and then gives in to the pull of music, playing a random jazz piece Chase should probably know by now. Later, he’ll drag himself away and sort out some kind of dinner, maybe check his emails, maybe set his alarm so he can get up early the next morning and try calling his sister. Later, he’ll watch House sleep and want to cry with how impossibly happy he is. Now though, now he closes his eyes and smiles a little, feeling the warmth of his lover beside him and hearing the gentle music speak for him.

…

One day, the team are casually asking around people’s plans for the weekend and Chase has to push down the image of House’s peacefully sleeping face. He’s aware that this is becoming a problem. It's just in his head but it's not exactly normal to have fantasies this strong. The bigger issue, however, is that he’s not sure he wants to stop. His real life was a bit of a lonely mess; why not allow himself something nice in his imagination for once? He deliberately does not speculate what House's idea of happiness is and whether it would be similar.

They were work colleagues and yes their relationship had changed over the years, but not _that_ much. Right now things were stable, comfortable, and Chase had to be content with that.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I’m half-tempted to make this one a reality, it was NOT intended to become this angsty/emotional but then House brought up his mother and it kind of did. I want to do a fic in this series where House finds out about Chase’s fantasies, not sure yet if it’ll be dirty or the start of a relationship.  
> Unbetaed, please let me know if you see any errors, I kept on slipping into the past as I was writing this so there’s probably some stray past verbs in there.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> :D


End file.
